


In Trouble

by PresidentGuppy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2017-12-30 01:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PresidentGuppy/pseuds/PresidentGuppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything goes downhill for the Alphas when Dave suddenly appears, drugged half to death and delirious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> This spiraled out of control ages ago.

**Dave, be drugged== >**

“Holy shit,” Dave slurred, “Holy shit,”

  
He scrabbled at the sand beneath him, grains slipping through his fingers as he tried to grasp something, anything, which was real. Strange shapes shifted in his eyes.

The knight of time couldn’t grasp time anymore, everything had become strange. Colour danced across his vision in bright lines, blurring spastically as he desperately sought out his shades, where were his shades _it’s too bright—_

  
Dave coughed, choking on air. Bro leaned over him, blood gushing from his mouth, strong hands wrapping around his throat. Red splattered across Dave’s face and he sobbed convulsing, struggling to scream. Dave could hear Bro yelling, screaming profanities. He could see the sword in his gut, could feel the blood pooling around them, drowning him.

  
“Hey, hey easy sweetie, I gotcha!” Dave’s eyes rolled. He sobbed as the lights dimmed and swirled. A blurred form of a girl replaced Bro, cool hands grazing his forehead. He was pulled up, and against her he could smell her sweet perfume. Long fingers ran through his hair, cleaning out the sand.

  
“Janey, what’s wrong with him?”

  
“This needle might have something to do with it.”

  
_Oh god needles holy shit needles were fucking evil—_

  
“It’s okay, shhh! Janey put that away!” The stroking became frantic.

  
Dave wheezed hysterically, and in a moment of desperation the girl began to sing.

  
It was mostly shaky and garbled, as if she didn’t know the words herself. She managed the rhymes, though, and they wrapped themselves around his mind like a tourniquet. His shaking eased, and she continued with confidence.

  
Limp in her arms, he could feel new hands gently touching his collarbone, his hands, his ribs. He flinched away the best he could, groaning.

  
“Roxy, he’s so thin, I don’t understand-“

  
“Bad cake,” Dave abruptly garbled. They fell silent, waiting patiently. “… _Lady with a fork thing_ ,”

  
“The Condesce?!”

  
“Sea Hitler,” He giggled, slightly hysterical. “said it was a present, said it wouldn’t h _urt_ —“

  
The hand resumed petting his hair consolingly, hushing him.

  
“We have to get him to di-stri,” One said abruptly. She lifted him with ease, the spinning sensation making him dizzy. “He’ll know what to do.”

 

**Roxy, be the rescuer== >**

Through some coaxing you were able to gather that he was Dave, Dave _Strider_ , and he had been captured and drugged nearly to the point of overdose by an irate Condesce. You’re not sure why and neither is he, to be honest. You didn’t see why she just didn’t kill him, or why she hadn’t killed you when she had you in her grip.

  
As you and Jane trek back to your home you can hear him mumbling incoherently, something about cats and trolls. You hush him the best you can while Jane slaughters any skeletal creature that comes near with a brutality she doesn’t normally show.

  
He doesn’t stop talking, and coos at you when you talk to him, showing that you were actually listening to him. You get the feeling no one really spends long periods of time with him. You sigh, snuggling him close because damn, he’s a sweetheart.

  
Jane is fond of him, too. She checks on him periodically between shifts of tearing shit apart and scouting ahead for safer paths. She asks if he’s eaten anything as of late and prods worryingly at him. He mumbles about how blue her eyes are.

  
Fefeta is guarding your home, and she smiles happily as you approach. You tell her its code red; put the guard up to the max. Dave laughs and said shit should be tighter than, then, _shit what wassit--?_

  
You lay him on the couch and put your best pillow under his head.

  
“I’m going to make him some soup,” Jane declared, “Where are your pots?”

  
You tell her and she occupies the kitchen, aggressively putting together something edible out of your many canned ingredients.

  
You message Dirk while Dave fades in and out of sleep.

  
tipsyGnolstic [TG] began pestering timauesTestified [TT]

TG: Dirk  
TG: DIRK LISEN SRS  
TG: omg where are you  
TT: What.  
TG: oh hey u  
TG: gues what?  
TT: Do I really have to say what again.  
TG: don be a spoilsport  
TG: I found your bro  
TT: What.  
TG: lmoa jus get over here  
TG: hes higher than a kite  
TG: but hes ok  
TG: hes a cutie dick gosh  
TG: *dirk  
TT: What the actual fuck Roxy  
TT: Where the hell did you find him?  
TG: OMG JUS GET OVER HERE DANG

tipsyGnolstic [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

  
You laugh and look over at Dave, who is finally snoozing peacefully.

**Dirk, lose your shit == >**

  
You are losing your shit. Your shit just grew wings and flew out the goddamn window. Your shit is in deep monster space now, flirting up the seventh ring of fuck-all.  
Sawtooth gives you a baffled stare as you flop onto the floor and lose your shit.

  
You ignore AR, who is also kind of losing his shit.

  
You weren’t supposed to meet him yet. He was supposed to be one of those fancy heroes that would come into your session, who would give you a benevolent fistbump and beat the shit out of the baddies. You were supposed to punch him in the teeth. You were supposed to ask why you were alone for so long.

  
Roxy said he was high, as in drugged. What the fuck, what the fuck, your Bro wasn’t a druggie, you never heard that. You researched everything you could about him. You would know.

  
You wanted to curl up and die, this was not okay. You pester Roxy but she doesn’t answer. Jane doesn’t, either, and you don’t really feel like talking to Jake right now, after what had happened.

  
Sawtooth prods you with a broom.

  
You make an agonized noise and he backs off.

  
Maybe if you play it cool, play it safe, you can still punch him in the teeth.

  
“Hey bro, are you okay? I saw you keel over and I was all like dang, y’know?” Squarewave takes the broom and brushes the bristles against your form. He keeps his distance, as the last time you had been upset you had ripped off his arm. “Wanna rap it out?”

  
“No,” your voice is muffled, and you sit up. “I have to go.”

  
“Stomach ache?” Squarewave looks sympathetic.

  
You stare at him. “What? No, dude-“

  
“I got some a’ that pink shit-“

  
“ _That’s not what I meant._ ”

  
“Oh, okay.”

  
They stare at you, waiting for an explanation. You tell them you have to leave for awhile, head over to Roxy’s. You tell them shit’s gotten kind of off and you need to fix it. They nod, not in understanding, but rather in compliance. They don’t argue when you’re like this.

  
You pull out your window, the little gateway to Roxy’s home.

  
Sawtooth pokes your head. You hastily fix your hair and jump in.

  
Like always the trip is mildly unpleasant, dark and arid. You have to take a break halfway to get your breathing under control, you’re so anxious. You reach the light at the end and jump through, appearing in Roxy’s kitchen.

  
You scare the shit out of Jane, and apologize.

  
“Honestly, Dirk!” Jane says unhappily as she chops up veggies, “you really ought to stop appearing out of nowhere!” She looks as anxious as you feel.

  
“Right, yeah,” You look around restlessly. Roxy gestures you over to the couch gleefully.

  
You straighten and do your best to look emotionless.

  
“He’s asleep you know.” She laughs as you relax and walk over cautiously. You peer over the couch. He’s…

  
Not what you expected at all.

  
Dave is thin, frail looking in his sleep. He’s ghostly pale and dark rings circle his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in a very long time. He has scars all over, just like you do, and you wonder how he got them. He looks sick.

  
He mumbles in his sleep, something that sounds vaguely like puppets, and you feel a bit warmer inside, a bit more at ease.

  
Roxy tells you what happened to him, and you break the frame of her couch.

  
It takes the combined effort of Jane and Roxy to keep you from hurling yourself out the door. You wanted to slaughter the Condesce with your bare hands but they won’t let you. You break wizard statues in frustration while Roxy scolds you and drags you away from her valuables.

  
She sets you down on the floor next to your brother and glares at you before heading off to find her vacuum.

  
A couple of minutes of staring at sleeping-bro and listening to Roxy cleaning your mess later, Jake appears with cans. He rushes into the kitchen, avoiding looking at you, and gives them to Jane. You talk to AR for awhile, trying to ignore him.

  
AR calls you a drama queen and you threaten to break his nonexistent face.

  
Dave’s eyes move and you back the fuck up, way out of his sight. You’re not ready for this, no way. AR is screaming and hiding deep in a shitton of coding. You call him a drama queen.

  
Roxy rolls her eyes at you. You make a face back and she laughs.

  
She pats your bro’s face a couple of times and he wakes up with an articulate “whatthefuck.”

  
“Rise and shine!” Roxy says into his face cheerily.

  
“…fuck that who even though of that phrase anyway.” He sits up regardless, rubbing his head. He looks around before looking back at her. “Yo, Lalonde, have you seen my shades?”

  
Roxy blinks at him, a little taken aback. “How do you know--?”

  
“You look just like Rose,” He yawns. “’cept, you know, not.”

  
“Eloquent,” Jane remarks teasingly, bringing over a tray of what appears to be a five star meal of soup and fancy shit. You wonder why she put so much effort into it.

You’d be jealous if not for the fact that she makes you ‘dickerdoodles’ every other day.

Dave looks a bit horrified, though, and quickly motions that he doesn’t want it. “I’m not hungry, seriously.”

  
Jane stared at him incredulously. “What? But you’re so thin!”

  
He stared back at her, not really comprehending. He looks down at himself. “Oh, yeah, that, um.” He stumbles a bit. “I’m not really, uh, I don’t—“

  
Jane looks, for a split second, as if she had just realized something very sad. “Just a little bit, to help you recover.” She coaxes. Eventually he agrees, and from your vantage point on the railing at the top of the stairs you can see that he quickly becomes ill and definitely kind of vomits all over Roxy’s coffee table.

  
Dave apologizes profusely but Jane takes the blame, saying that she shouldn’t have pressured him while he was still recovering. She gives him water and tries to make him as comfortable as possible while Fefeta does a weird sprite thing that takes care of the mess. Roxy looks scandalized and asks if she can get him anything to make him feel better, possibly some medicine.

  
You’re concerned and afraid. You try to tell yourself that it’s fine, he just hasn’t eaten in a while, it’s not like he hasn’t eaten anything in a while on purpose.

  
Jake looks pityingly at him from in the kitchen before bringing out his survival kit and heading over, rummaging for the supplies he keeps for when there isn’t food around for long periods of time.

  
You feel ill.

**Dave: rest easy== >**

There is no way that will ever happen to you, not with these cheerful, sparkly eyed Egbert-relatives around. You are wary for pranks, and bet that horrorterror soup was just one of them.

  
Jake and Jane are what they called, just like John and Jade and you wonder if they’re names are similar just to fuck with you. You switch their names almost constantly before giving up and simply keep talking to yourself.

  
You’re surprised, because they listen. They talk to you. They don’t wander off in the middle of your long lines of dialogue.

  
You know that talking too much will make them tune out, stop listening and generally stop going near you, but you are so, so desperate for attention.

  
Roxy smiles at you without the sly antagonism Rose has. You like her; she’s the clone of your mother. The mother you never actually met or thought existed. (Bro had told you that you came from an asteroid and you just accepted it without questions, probably because it was the only thing he ever said sincerely.) Jane was just as sweet and Jake was kind of forgetful, just like Jade had been.

  
By the end of the day you feel better, enough that you can actually think clearly. You wonder why you haven’t seen your bro. He was a part of their party, wasn’t he? Rose said so.

  
You wait but he doesn’t appear. There’s no sign of him, no pointy anime shades or puppets anywhere.

  
You feel homesick, curling up on Roxy’s couch. You went through hell and back and he isn’t even here, that asshole. He was supposed to be here, he was supposed to be a playful young douchebag who suffocated you with smuppets and adoration.

  
The next time you see Rose you’re going to, well, rap at her, probably. That girl was really kind of unbeatable if you ignore her recent alcoholism. You didn’t want to tango with that. Dark magic scared the shit out of you.

  
You weren’t, however, scared of jungle boy.

  
Abruptly you reach out and snag Jake’s shirt as he passes by. He’s surprised but readily grins and offers assistance in his strange accent that you suppose would sound hot if he wasn’t such a goddamn goof all the time.

  
“Where is my bro.” You demand flatly. There is no nonsense here that shit flew out the window ages ago with the soup and your dreams.

  
It’s almost funny; you can see the blood drain from Jakes deep toned skin until he was pallid. You narrow your eyes suspiciously and he starts to sweat.

  
“Uh, well, he’s around,--“

  
There is no way in hell you are giving this fucker your vows but you’ll give him a _goddamn arrow to the knee if he doesn’t start talking_.

  
“ _Where_?” You pull him close and snarl in his face. He’s bigger than you but you’re godtier. He’s a fucking bucktooth windbag, that doesn’t count for shit. You may be down for the count but that doesn’t mean you don’t have a—

  
Shit wait Sea Hitler took your sword.

  
You pretend that you didn’t realize this just now.

  
He sighs all sadly and you want to claw out his teeth.

  
“Listen,” he says gently, taking a hold of the hands that held unrelentingly onto his shirt. “I know you’re in a frightful situation. Dirk isn’t being too kind right now with his behavior but I swear on my life things will turn up between the two of you gents—“

  
So, what, he doesn’t like you? That’s why he isn’t around?

  
“Oh, no, Strider—Dave please,” Jake abruptly pulls you close and what the hell is he hugging you what the actual fuck, “Don’t cry, I’ll fix things, honest!”

  
You clock him in the nose and hope he dies of it.


	2. In Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short Chapter, with some brotherly bonding.

He does not, in fact, die from it.

Jake clutches his nose with a rapidly reddening tissue, apologizing repeatedly to you. You’re surprised he isn’t hitting you back. You’ve been a shit to him, you kind of deserve it.

He pats your shoulder and apologizes again, saying that he should’ve known better to get into your personal space.

You wish you could hate him, he is being too kind to you.

You wipe away your tears and mumble an apology back to him. You feel sick again.

“It’s not a problem, gent!” Jake says cheerily. “A good fight takes off some steam, nothing more!”

You wonder if he’s a punching bag come to life and ask him. He laughs  and says yeah, that would make sense, wouldn’t it?

“Now let’s watch some movies, eh? We'll have a grand time of it, I picked out the best of my arsenal at home. Let’s forget about all this, hmm?” He’s holding what looks like twenty or thirty DVDs.

They are so, wonderfully, shitty.

Disney rip offs and 90s comedy gold, you missed this shit since you lost Lohac to Jade all that time ago.

You...make friends with him. He’s like John; really into his movies and excitable. He’s just missing the oh-John-you-little-shit-where’d-you-get-that-bucket-of-glitter. Not that you mind, you’d rather forget that incident.

“Really, Dave. Can I call you that? I’m a big fan of your work.”

“My what?” You can’t remember ever doing any work, not really, aside from that one year you got a job as a lifeguard and had to quit the first day because you burned to a crisp and nearly drowned yourself.

“You’re comics and movies, of course!” He’s beaming, the picture of a charming gentleman, dimples and all. He’s a bit too close for comfort.

You eye him kind of funny. “I’ve never filmed a movie before.”

“Not yet.” He winks at you and points two finger pistols at you.

You laugh at the sheer absurdity.

 

You’re more pissed than you thought you would be. Jake would move on from your break up, you knew that. You just didn’t expect it so...soon.

He’s flirting with your brother. It’s so obvious.

The wink, the casual put-your-arm-around-his-shoulder, the smiles, the movies, all of it.

Dave had you beat, though. Movie star, comic maker, all around cool guy.

He’s also sick and young, AR reminds you. Like a baby bird, too weak to fly. Look, Jake’s the hawk thats going to carry him off to eat him. Bye bye birdie, see ya never. He’s a gonner, that one.

Fuck, you think, throat constricting.

Yeah, fuck.You think he wants to be felt up when he’s been drugged to hell and back? here’s a hint, its 100 % no. He’s probably still not in the right state of mind for that sort of thing. And Jake? Not good enough for our bro, no fucking way.

A burst of fire constricted your heart. Your brother, your brother, was recovering. Jake was taking advantage of him.

Damn right he is. He needs to back the fuck off shitshitshit go now he’s leaning in man-!

You’re going to slaughter him.

You lurch off the railing quickly. AR was right, Jake really was going for the kill. He was leaning in, eyes lidded. Talking low so that Dave would have to lean in to hear.

You flashstep past, grabbing Jakes collar as you did and dragging him heftily to the kitchen and out of sight.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” You snarl at him, your forearm pressing his neck to the checkered floor. You try to ignore the familiar twinge of yearning in your gut.

“What?” He asks, the picture of innocence.

“Don’t give me that,” You press harder and he raises his hands in surrender.

“Yes, alright,” He says huffily. “I get it, you’re jealous.”

“No, Jake,” Yes, you are. Not as much as you are angry, though. “He needs to recover.”

“He’ll recover much better with company though, wouldn’t he?” Jake eyes you meaningfully and oh that little shit knew you better than you thought. You pretend not to know. There was no way you were going to let him one-up you like that.

“I’m going to warn you once, just fucking once. If you go near him again, I am going to rip off your dick and nail it to my door.”

“I...don’t think that’s really necessary.” You freeze. Dave had shuffled over, peering interestedly at you over the counter top. He’s a little red in the face, perhaps from realizing what Jake was up to. You side eye Jake menacingly and back off.

Dave rolls his eyes and tugs on the back of your shirt. Your feel pleasantly warm at his hidden smile, so you follow him willingly outside. You feel better about this, admittedly. You wished you had intervined earlier.

“Dude I thought he was gonna piss himself,” He’s laughing so hard he’s bent over. His clothes are mostly rags, you note, not the red carpet suits you had imagined him in. He abruptly hugs you, still laughing.

You hug him back and your heart breaks a little. He’s so thin, all sharp edges. You can feel the knobs of his spine through his shirt. His ribcage sticks out unhappily. This close you can see scars all over his skin, some long and some curved, like he had fallen into glass shards or had a bad day with a knife.

“Dave,” You say quietly, questioningly. He stiffens all over. You're suspicious, what had really happened to him?

He won’t look you in the eye. He looks so, so tired.

“We should, uh, get inside, don’t know what’s out here, huh?” He laughs nervously.

You grab his wrist and pull up his sleeve.

Scars litter his arm, top to bottom, a vicious red against pale skin. Some look to be old, but many of the larger ones are new.

He snatches it back, gasping. You realize a little too late that he’s hyperventilating, making a desperate, wheezing noise with each take.

“Dave? Fuck, I’m sorry, I-” You hold him close and he starts coughing, wet sounds from deep in his lungs. Shit, shit he can’t breathe, what was wrong with him why wasn’t he breathing-

asthma

The word floated in your head, though from where you’re not sure. You’ve never heard of it.

-fuck shit did he leave his inhaler at home again-

You grab Dave’s sylladex and desperately search it. It was hopelessly empty, aside from a little envelope.You grab it without thinking.

it’s the middle of summer in Texas for shits sake he’ll die-

“No,” You hold him close and abruptly scream for Roxy.

Within seconds she’s out the door, eyes wide. Jane and Jake are right behind her. She seems to understand the situation, though, and quickly fires out orders.

You all haul him back inside and to the couch. Jane cranks up the air conditioning as Roxy brings out an odd, l-shaped object from her sylladex. An inhaler, why the fuck does Roxy have an inhaler?

“C’mon sweetie,” She says soothingly, stroking Dave’s face. “Calm down, we gotcha. Breathe into this, okay?”

     You can't remember hearing her voice so sweet.

He does as he's told, struggling, and within several breaths he’s back to normal, though his voice sounds wretched.

You feel awful. This was your fault, wasn’t it?  

Your eyes burn and you shake. You almost lost him.

“Dirk, what’s that in your hand there?” Jane asks. She looks relieved, even if she’s keeping a careful eye on Dave, as well as Roxy, who was teaching him calming breathing exercises.  

You jerk in surprise and look at the envelope. You tear off one end and take out what was inside.

A...card? It’s glittery and pink. You open it revealing more glitter and…

“<3 >8) ~Her Royal Condesce”

You violently tear it to pieces.


	3. In Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a meteor there. We're not really sure why.

"Uh, I may not be quite the astronomer as you Roxy, but...Is that a meteor in the sky?"

"Jake what are you even talkin about-" Roxy peered into the telescope huffily, "oh hey would you lookit that? There really is a meteor. And theres a building on it!"

"We'd better tell the others," Jake was pacing, looking worried. He peered into the telescope and asked, "What if it's the Condesce?"

"If it is we can't tell!"

He rounded on her, confused and a little irate.

"Why ever not?!" He demanded, eyebrows furrowed.

"Dave'll flip his lid!" Roxy ran her fingers through her hair unhappily. "We can't do that to him-- not while he's recovering."

Jake paused, thinking. His shoulders abruptly slumped. "What'll we do?"

Roxy thought for a moment. "I have an idea...but you probably won't like it."

**Dirk== > be cool**

"No," You say, voice flat.

"Dirk we gotta!" Roxy hisses at you, glancing around the corner at Dave, who was snoozing under the protective watch of Jane. She looked fierce, eyeing every available entrance.

"We can't leave him here all alone," you snap.

"Thats why just you and me will go!" Roxy said, exasperated. "We'll check it out, see if its dangerous, and then come back! No big deal!"

"And how will we get there?"

Roxy held up her window gleefully.

"Do you even know how to use that? It only connects to mine." You frown at her as deeply as you can.

She purses her lips at you in return. "Dirk, please. I am a scientist."

"I thought you were a hacker?"

"Zip it mister I'm a smartie!"

**Roxy== >Espionage**

You are getting real tired of Dirk's sass, but his pursed lips won't deter you. After fiddling with the window and giving it a good couple of whacks, you're ready to go.

Dirk is giving Dave worrying glances, so you shove him in and jump in after him.

The trip is weird, to say the least. It was like falling up, confusing and nauseating.

You wind up in a vent, shoved together like tuna in a can. Dirk looks at you like he hates you, just a little bit. You smile at him reassuringly and wiggle around, trying to get some room to separate.

You succeed in breaking the vent open with your weight, depositing you and dirk to the floor below. You suppose a win is a win, so you don't complain.

You're both in a very grey hallway. Its pretty boring in your opinion, but Dirk is already moving.

He's angry and fast as fuck, so you have a hard time trying to keep up with him.

You're both approaching a curve in the hall when you hear voices.

"...Y'know, she seems kinda familiar."

"I would like to know why you find her this way."

"For research? Because you're an octopus doctor?"

"Yes. That is exactly what I am."

"Hehe. Well, the thing is, I only ever saw my mom once. Then my dad wouldn't talk about it or anything, cause it was a long time ago? I don't really know what happened."

"Fascinating. I am writing it down for octopus research immediatly."

"She had really long hair, and she was really pretty too, I think? The smiles the same, I know that."

"As an octopus doctor I have no thoughts on the matter."

"Because I'm not an octopus?"

"Because you're not an octopus."

The voices faded away, evidently taking a different route than yours.

You turn to Dirk with a winning smile, but he's too tense to smile back.

Theres a tug on your shirt so you look down.

Its a...carpice? A dersite, you suppose. He's small and all wrapped up in rags and shit shit Condesce was in charge of derse.

You grab him, quick as can be and put your hand over his mouth. He doesn't fight you; just gives you a confused sort of gaze and hangs there, tiny and unthreatening. The sash across his chest says 'Mayor'.

"Why isn't he doing anything?" You whisper worryingly to your accomplice. He just shrugs at you.

The mayor pats your cheek and you coo at him. You can't really help it, he's such an adorable little mayor. They remind you of the carpices you used to live next to. He's holding some cans and a couple of sticks of chalk.

"We'll take him with us and crush answers out of him," Dirk says.

You punch him in the arm and tell him he's scaring the baby. Seriously who does that? Dirk, is who. He is the worst parent, ever.

You were here to scout out the danger, not capture tiny mayors. Dirk side-eyes you menacingly.

"'Can't be too bad. Just an octopus doctor and a giggly dude, right?" You try, giving him a nudge.

You troop back to the vent where you entered and fall through the window back home, Dirk hot you your trail.

Nothing has changed, really. Aside from Jake sitting on a chair in front of the front door, rifle resting in the crook of his elbow. For once he looks serious, maybe a little intimidating. Jane waves at you from overseeing the couch.

He perks up when he hears you walk in, but frowns at the Mayor.

Dirk pulls duck tape out of his sylladex.

"No," you say warningly at him, carrying your hostage up the stairs to the observatory, head held high. They follow you.

"Now sweetheart, why don't you tell mummy all about your space rock?" You coo after setting the Mayor down on a pillow.

He just kind of blinks at you.

"Roxy, I don't think that's how you're supposed to interrogate people." Jake says, sounding baffled. You shush him.

The Mayor nibbles on his fingers disinterestedly.

Dirk looms over your shoulder trying to look intimidating. You ruin it by laughing, because he is probably the least intimidating person you've ever met.

He throws his hands up in the air and walks out, huffing angrily. Jake watches him go before squatting down next to the carapice.

"Hungry little fella?" He asks casually. "We have cans of food for you if you want them."

Dave==> Be concerned

Jane is the nicest person you've ever met, period.

You think that's pretty sad, considering you never really left the house if you didn't have to all that time ago, even when your bro shoved you out of the apartment.

She's very kind to you, so you don't think she would do that. Miss Crocker had made you plenty of food and made you comfortable, even though you babbled her ear off. She must be made of some tough stuff to take care of you like that without getting irritated at you.

Or at least, that's what you think. She said it was nice having a friend around, since when she was younger she had to stay protected in her home at all times. When you ask why she laughs and said it was because people kept trying to kill her.

You don't know what to think about that.

Dirk comes down the stairs looking irritated. He flops onto the couch next to you, so you nudge him with your foot in what you hoped was a comforting motion.

 


	4. In Sylladex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamzee, stay out of the vents.

You learn that Dave likes photography. He says he used to have a black room especially for developing pictures. When you ask why he didn't use a digital camera he sort of shrugs and says it's too easy.

You alchemize him a camera out of computer bits you found around the house and he's pleased as a punch.

You feel pretty proud that you can make him happy after all that he went through.

As the days pass you can see him recovering well, getting stronger and healthier. His happiness is key, you think, so you do your best to make sure he isn't wanting of anything.

Your friends help as much as they can, which you're grateful for. Roxy mothers over him impressively.

"Yo Rolal, where did you learn all that?" You ask. You're leaning over the kitchen counter, watching as she cooks and cleans and generally does things she hadn't bothered with before.

"I have no idea!" She says cheerfully, polishing her favourite wine glass. "It just sorta came over me. Mama Ro-Lal is on the job!" She puts it away and grabs another.

You don't really know what to think about that.

"But you're not a mom?"

"I think I used to be," she sighs, "but I bet I was pretty bad at it. I never knew why she was so mad at me..."

"Who?" You prompt, baffled.

She pauses. "I...don't know?" Her face screws up, trying to grasp a memory that wasn't quite there. "Maybe it was a past life!"

"What are you guys talking about?" Jane called from the couch where she was playing blackjack with Dave. He was winning spectacularly.

"Are past lives a thing?" Roxy asks her, sweeping out of the kitchen to flop on the armchair next to them.

Jane shrugs and looks at Dave. "Is it? A thing, that is." She lays down twenty and looks smug.

He shrugs, eyes on his cards. "No idea." He casually lays down his cards to reveal a full twenty one.

"Oh pooey!" Jane throws up her cards in defeat, "I was never good at this game."

Roxy laughs so you join them, feeling that maybe there really was a past life of yours.

Dave==> sleep

Well that certainly wasn't happening.

You're being watched.

Coincidentally, you were not being watched by just anybody. Bro and Jane had gone to sleep while the rest were guarding the outdoors.

So, nobody but you should be there.

The vent nearby says differently.

You already know who it is before the vent covering is set aside and his grinning mug is glinting at you in the dark.

You hated Gamzee more than puppets and Rose's taste in decor. That creep had been watching you from the vents since you came to that god awful meteor, so you suppose you're not too surprised to see him here.

You really wish he wasn't, though.

"Man, what the fuck are you wearing?" You're stuggling to get up, sleep-deprived and irritable. "You look like a train met a carnival and...wait, no, fuck. Like a trainwreck carnival thing? Fuckit, just go back into your hole in the wall."

You flop back on the couch, doing your best to look unimpressed and unintimidated. You know he sees through you, though. That bastard always did.

He sneers at you, easing himself out of the vent with a grace that you wouldn't admit under torture. "Aw, don't be all up and movin', yeah? You'll motherfucking break." He's ignoring your weak jab.

"Piss off," you snap, without much thought.

He laughs at you and ambles over. "Better be nice or you won't get your shit back. You left everything in it. Want to know where I found it, motherfucker?" He has your old sylladex, fuck.

You glare at him, silent and bitter.

"C'mon, guess." He's looming over you now, all sharp teeth and narrow eyes. He leans in closer, just enough for you to smell his rancid breath. "There's a jail cell in derse with your name all over it, Dave."

He knocks the air out of you when he slams the sylladex card on your chest.

"Better not lose it again," he hisses, "otherwise we're going to have some motherfucking problems."

He smiles, his claws digging into your shirt, before he backs off. You let go of the breath you didn't realize you were holding.

"Get better soon," he coos at you before vanishing from sight, vent closed and all.

If you ever see him again it will be too soon.

You spend the rest of the night eyeing the darkness, wondering if he's still there or went off to do his own business. He especially enjoyed talking to you while you slept to manipulate your dreams.

Eventually your bro comes down the stairs, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. When he comes over to check on you he pauses in confusion at your tired, terrified eyes.

"Hey what's the matter?"

"I hate clowns," you say shakily, holding up your sylladex. "...so fucking much."

Theres a note on it. Dirk plucks it off and reads it, eyebrows furrowed. "It's just a heart?" He flips it over. "From Gam- wait is that the troll that I have to keep chucking faygo at to keep him away are you kidding me right now."

You grumble unintelligably, something that sounded like a yeah that sounds like him.

"How did he get in?" Dirk asks you urgently.

You point at the vent, accidentally activating the sylladex and sending your shit everywhere.

"Fuck," you say, just as an old shitty sword is launched into the wall. A pile of smuppets is dropped on the floor. You say it again when the resounding crash of your jars of dead shit shatter against the kitchen floor, petrified animal corpses flyinging every which way.

You wish your past self wasn't such a goddamn hipster. You watch unhappily as your old myriad of selfies fluttered to the floor, piling on the mess below.

 


	5. In Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is going well for no one.

Roxy==>

Your morning was simple enough. Wake up, get dressed, troop down the stairs to the kitchen for some food.

However you didn't expect to see Dirk shoving various heavy objects in front of vent openings.

You also didn't expect to see various petrified animals all over your kitchen.

"Whats going on...?" You're frozen on the steps, slack jawed.

"Oh good there you are. Wanna give me a hand?" Dirk is exhausted. Dave is next to him, even worse but looking determined.

"Fucking hate that guy," he wheezes, with a brief wave.

"I know, man. I know." Dirk pats his shoulder sympathetically. You feel like you're missing something.

Jake comes in through the front door, a massive rifle on his arm. "Ah! Hello Roxy my dear. Having a good morning?" He is distinctly different today.

"Where'd you even get that thing?" You ask him. The rifle is taller than he is, and looks heavy.

"Oh, this old thing? I alchemized it with the whatsit!" He winks with a grin, "Can never have enough protection, huh?"

"...what’s that a dick joke?"

He pauses. "I...suppose so?" He shrugs and resumes his trip to the kitchen, ignoring the mess. He's marching, you think dazidly.

You wander over to where Dirk and Dave were blockig your vents, avoiding colourful puppets and shards of glass.

"There better be a good reason for this!" You warn, waggiling a cross finger at them threateningly.

"Clowns suck?" Dave asks hopefully, looking pained.

"Clowns?" You repeat, baffled.

Dirk gives a final shove and the antique dresser slides to completely cover the vent. "Yeah, you know, that one weird clown."

It takes you a moment to realize what they're talking about.

"...I don't like that guy."

"Good." Dave sags against his brother, looking like he could use a long nights sleep.

"How do you know him?" Dirk asks the hunched figure beside him, frowning.

"He lives in the vents in the meteor," Dave rubs his eyes and pushes himself off the furniture, tottering back to the couch in the same way a sleepy child would. "He's from the session before mine."

He lets out an umph when he flops onto the couch.

"If you see him feel free to stab him for me."

"Whats his deal anyway?" You rifle through the drawers of your newly moved armoir and find a dustpan and a brush.

Dave buries his head further into his pillow.

You shove the offending articles of cleanliness at Dirk before flouncing over to your houseguest, giving Dave a couple of comforting pats on the back. "Come on, tell me!"

"I..." You lean in closer to hear his muffled words. "...may have, accidentally, uh...ruined his life. On purpose. Sort of."

You stare at the back of his head, taken aback. You don't know what to think of this new development.

"At the time I thought he was just a troll," Dave sits up quickly, struggling to explain himself. "Not that he was, you know, an actual troll. Alien. Whatever. I messed up his religion and he went bonkers, is what I'm saying here."

"How do you mess up someone's religion?" Dirk sounds just as baffled as you feel. Disbelief floods you, there was no way someone as sweet as Dave would do something like that.

Looking at the guilt on his tired face, you start to feel otherwise.

Something snags on the back of your brain.

"Wait, what meteor?"

John==> retrieve your bestfriend.

You would love to do that, except for that fact that you can't seem to find him.

From planet to planet you have been wandering around for weeks, looking for Dave. Dave i-dont-need-yall Strider.

You're seriously hoping this is a prank because he has been gone for so long even Rose was worried.

He ran off without even telling where he was going.

"Bye," he had said, arm raised in farewell, "see ya whenever."

In a flash of time power he was gone, leaving you baffled in the doorway of the meteor, arms outstreached for a hug that wasn't coming.

You are going to kick him in the rear so hard his ectomom would feel it.

"Guh!" You snarled in frustration, kicking a bizarre replica of the stonehenge irritably. He wasn't here, either. You had even asked the bizarre troll sprite if he'd seen the caped godtier, but had only recieved a middle finger and some foul language.

You hope sincerely that the next planet is better, because you're getting real tired of empty puzzle tombs and bizarre skeleton creatures.

There wasn't even any reward for these things. Just dead stuff.

With a final huff you floor it back out of the atmosphere and move to the next planet, grumbling to yourself.

What you find doesn't surprise you.

Sand, tombs and dead shit.

At least it was colourful.

You start calling out for your friend, wandering the bright wasteland. You examine the doorless tombs and smash a good couple of skeletons before you reach what looks to be Rose's home, nestled in the sand.

You wonder if this is where your ectoclones were. You hadn't see hide nor hair of them since you arrived, so you had just sort of assumed they were off doing their own thing, dead or otherwise.

There were alot of dead things.

You try not to think about them, those dead things.

Regardless you float down to the doormat and knock on the door a politely as you could, just like your dad had taught you all those years ago.

He hadn't, however, taught you how to dodge bullets.

There was a hole in your head, you could feel the vicious blast of pain and the sharp white you had seen just moments before shows you that you had definately died.

You blink spastically, ears ringing and head aching terribly. Blood drips down your face. You don't know what to think.

Your body decides to pass out for you, though, to save you the trouble of replying to the oh my god are you okay-!

Dirk==> flip the fuck out

You had realized too late what had happened after the knock on the door was silenced by the blast of Jake's rifle.

Jake, that idiot, had leapt over the couch with a loud bellow and taken aim. Roxy's horrified no was drowned out by the bang that split the front door in half, sending shards of wood and glass all over the newly cleaned floor.

You leap up from your position covering a shocked Dave and run to the door, throwing it open.

You reach it just in time to see the blue figure fall to the ground with a wet thud, bright eyes wide and startled.

He looked like Jane.

"Oh holy shit." Roxy says from behind you, sounding horrified. She rushes over to him and gives his shoulder a shake, asking if he was alright.

"Roxy, he's-"

"Ugh," a pained moan came from a slack jaw.

"...not dead?"

Roxy glares at you.

"Yeah, okay," you stumble over and help her lift the body up, shuffling inside. You try to ignore the blood that was seeping into your shirt.

Dave is pale when you look over at him.

"John?!" He gasps, lurching off the couch. Abruptly disoriented, he stumbles over to you.

John doesn't do much of anything, aside from stain the floor red and look admittedly kind of attractive if you ignore the gaping hole in his head.

"He's not dead," you declare, not knowing what else to say.

You ignore Roxy's derisive snort.


	6. In Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John, that's rude.

John likes your shades.

 

You know because he said so, pointing with an elegant piano finger and a bright grin. He said they were sharp. They were cool.

 

Which is great, they were supposed to be, can’t go around stabbing evil without them, you had blurted out.

 

“Very,” He paused and then, with a sly expression, said, “ _sugoi_.”

 

You think you’re in love.

 

Dave is his best friend. You can hear John shouting it from where you're hiding in the kitchen from his wrath and Dave's guilty apologies. His best friend and he _just left without saying anything._

 

You glance over at Roxy, who was pretending to look busy organizing petrified animals into jars. She mouths _oooh burn_ when John's shrill _you can barely take care of your chores not to mention yourself filters into the air._

 

There was a loud thwack! and a muffled _sorry I won't do it again_. Silence, and you knew the storm had passed.

 

Peeking over the counter you can see them sitting next to each other looking perfectly content, as if John hadn’t been yelling at him for the past thirty minutes.

 

“John!” Roxy drawls out loudly, popping up next to you. You give a start and glare at her but she ignores you in favour of primping the curve of her hair.

 

 _Uh_ - _oh_ , AR says. You agree grimly. You recognize that expression.

 

“Oh! Yes?” John whips his head around to look at her with his blue eyes and charming dimples. His front teeth stick out in his smile.

 

“What brings you here, John?” You intervene hastily. Roxy side eyes you darkly while you pretend not to notice.

 

“I was looking for Dave!” John smiles triumphantly at his friend.  “Also to find you guys, but mostly to find Dave.”

 

You’re grateful the hole in his head was gone, because that winning smile wouldn’t have been so clean.

 

“Thanks for fixing my glasses,” He says abruptly, tapping said frames. “And, uh, sorry for bleeding on your shirt. I didn’t expect to get shot today.”

 

You do your best to shrug and look cool about it. “No problem, happens all the time.”

 

“What, your shirts getting bloody or people being shot in the head?” Roxy grumbles. You swat at her from behind the counter.

 

John just laughs. It’s cute, you think. Like bells.

 

Roxy kicks your shin.

 

“Say John,” She says merrily, “how about I give you the grand tour of things around here?”

 

_Shit she’s making a move. Think!_

 

“You don’t want that, man. It’s all sand.” You shove her with your elbow in mock play. “You like video games?”

 

“Actually I’m pretty tired,” John laughs awkwardly. “I was just going to rest up for a little while.”

 

“That’s cool too,” you say before Roxy can.

 

Irritated, she drags you out of the kitchen and up the stairs. You wish she wasn’t so freakishly strong, you had _flirting_ to do.

 

“Dirk, _please_.” she says once you were out of earshot.

 

“What?” you ask innocently.

 

She gives you a sour look. “Oh no you don’t. You can’t keep this one from me!”

 

You frown at her indignantly.

 

“You’re supposed to _share_ , Dirk.” She purses her lips at you.

 

You don’t want to share, but you can see where she was coming from. You got Jake the last time, hadn’t you?

 

“I get John, you get Jake.” You say reasonably.

 

You really, really didn’t want to share.

 

“How about we fight for him? Winner takes all.” Roxy raises her fists for emphasis.

 

You frown. “Okay that’s not fair, you can beat the shit out of me with just your _fists_.”

 

“ _Exactly_!”

 

“No,” You deadpan.

 

“Um, not to interrupt, but what are you two arguing about?” Jane had wandered out of her room, yawning. You had woken her up with your fighting.

 

“Janey, you decide!” Roxy points at her dramatically. “Who get’s to date John?”

 

Jane’s expression goes from concerned confusion to downright irritable in two seconds flat, and you’re not going to deny the fact that her face quite suddenly gave you the willies.

 

She waggles a finger at the both of you threateningly. “Now listen here, you two. You can’t just argue over who get’s who! You have to ask him yourself, you hear?”

 

Roxy lets out a “whaaaat?” but Jane just tuts at her.

 

“Honestly, he’s not a piece of meat!”

 

You give it some thought. “Yeah, okay,” You pivot on your heal. “I’m going to ask him out!”

 

"What? Hey, I wasn't finished!" Jane calls after you. A few moments later she gives a gusty sigh.

 

You hear thundering footsteps and swerve just in time for Roxy to outrun you.

 

“Me first!” Roxy laughs. She’s launched herself up and over the railing by the time you realize what she’s done.

 

**Dave: Laugh at them ⇒**

 

You already are, so there’s really no problem there. John sits there looking puzzled while you’re doubled over from your case of the giggles.

 

“What was that all about?” He complains when you’ve finished, pouting.

 

“I am so sorry.” You grip his shoulder to keep yourself steady. “They are going to flirt the shit out of you, man. There’s going to be hearts and roses thrown at you from every angle. It’s going to be so great. Please tell me I’m going to be the best man at your wedding- Hey man what the hell get back here.”

 

John had wandered off in the middle of your ramblings and was currently rooting around the fridge.

 

“Keep going,” he calls over his shoulder, “I’m listening!”

 

You chuck a smuppet at him and are pleased to find it goes farther than it had the last time, smacking John in the back of the head.

 

Said heir lets out an indignant yelp and chucks it back, blurting ‘ew’ excessively.

 

“You’ve _scarred_ me, Dave!” He whines. “ _Scarred_!”

 

“Oops,” you snort at him.

 

You hear thundering footsteps and Roxy’s laughter, and look up just in time to see her jump over the railing and land neatly, hurriedly fixing her hair and trotting over. Dirk isn’t far behind, looking cheated.

 

“Hi again!” John says, floating over. He has one of your juice boxes. You could tell he was trying not to laugh.

 

“Hey,” Roxy draws out, adjusting her shirt one last time. “John, Hey!”

 

“You suck at this,” Dirk says next to her. She elbows him in the ribs and he doubles over, wheezing.

 

John pretends he doesn’t realize what they’re up to. He’s sitting on the back of the couch, looking dainty.

 

You can’t stop snickering.

 

Jane is on the top of the stairs, shaking her head at them.

 

“I-” Dirk glares at her, “ _We_ , want to know, if you would like to date one of us.” She pauses. “Or both of us. That’s cool too.”

 

There was a beat of silence, then-

 

“No, thank you,” John says pleasantly. “Hehe!”

 

You can practically hear their little hearts breaking.

 

“Harsh, man.” You say. Roxy and Dirk are still. “You gonna say why?”

 

“Nah,” He says. He turns back to them. “We should all get going, since the planets are about to be obliterated and all that.”

 

“Wait, what?”

 


	7. In the Meteor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An auspice is probably needed.

The meteor is a dim, grey place. You have done all you can to try and remedy this; bright fabrics and candles litter the walls and surfaces, lovely furniture and artwork litter the many rooms.

 

And yet, it remains as gloomy as ever.

 

You sigh unhappily and sit in your armchair, yet another book of romance help on your lap.It is a lighter novel than you would usually choose but you have no complaints today.

 

It’s one of Karkat’s novels. He had written all over it in grey, of course.

 

You shut it and toss it grouchily.

 

“...Whassamatter?” Rose slurs after a moment. The book had hit her square on the noggin.

 

“Nothing, darling,” You say serenely. Smoothing out your skirt you rise and drift over to her, picking at her hair and subtly moving her drink away from her. You are starting to hate the soporific concoction she had made for herself.

 

She lets out a drunk little giggle. “Kanya no,” She takes back the glass of acid and holds it close.

 

She doesn’t understand why you hate it so much.

 

You take the glass and chuck it at the door.

 

Bright shards go flying, bouncing off the floor. You ignore her outraged noises and leave the room, fuming.

 

You have grown very tired of this dull, grey place. You want to see something different.

 

You pass by the several common areas before finally settling in the main room. Karkat was there, typing on his husktop in his usual irritable taps.

 

His typing bothered you. You wished he’d just use the damn caps button.

 

“You feeling okay?” He asks, not looking up. He can feel your brimming tension. You’re not entirely sure how but he knew. “You look like an angry hoofbeast.”

 

“Grey is an awful colour.” You say. “Do wear something else.”

 

“No,” he huffs. He shuts his husktop and gestures you over to him.

 

You hesitate but sit next to him on the floor. You wonder why he doesn’t bother with chairs.

 

“What’s the actual problem here?” He stares at you with his beady black eyes. You want to use them as buttons on a coat. “Is it Rose again?”

 

You sigh, which he takes as a yes. He sighs too and shakes his head.

 

“I know you see a problem with the new Rose, but I don’t. Remember when Gamzee stopped taking his soporifics?”

 

You scowl at him. “She isn’t the same. She’s...she’s different!”

 

“Different from before or different from him?”

 

“ _Both_.”

 

Another sigh. “We’ve been over this a hundred times. All you can do is support her, right?”

 

You wish you could.

 

There was a loud crash in the hallway.

 

Startled, you lean so you could see out the entrance better, and call out a wavery “...Rose?”

 

“I found Dave!” John’s cheerful reply came.

 

Karkat stands, sending his husktop flying. His eyes are wide and bright. You can see his hands clenched at his sides, and realize he’s shaking.

 

“Dave?”

 

“Honey, I’m home,” He sounds weak, but still definitely, wonderfully, _Dave_.

 

In seconds Karkat is bounding out the door, screeching a “ _Where the hell were you?_!”

 

You take a moment to stand and adjust your skirt before you peer out the doorway.

 

**Dave: Be concerned. ⇒**

 

You could never be as concerned as Karkat was.

 

Currently said troll has you by the shirt and is roughly shaking you, screaming expletives in your face with his usual angry concern. You’re not entirely sure where he gets his creative flow from but you wish you had a piece of it.

 

“Dude, back off,” Dirk grabs the back of Karkat’s sweater in an attempt to get him off of you, only to find a ball of screaming indignity in his face.

 

“Guys, come on,” You whine. You prod Karkat in the side and he quits screaming long enough to give you an offended glare. He looks like you’ve done him a personal wrong and yeah, you suppose you did since he had told you not to leave but you did anyway.

 

“Look,” You lick your dry lips, “I’m sorry-”

 

“ _You’re gonna be sorry,_ ” He hisses at you menacingly. Dirk gives him a little warning shake as if to tell him he was still there.

 

“Put him down, bro.” You say, exasperated.

 

Karkat sneers at him when he refuses.

 

“Beepbeep! Meow!” John laughs, floating by merrily.

 

Dirk gives him a baffled look while Karkat rolls his eyes.

 

“Yes, very funny.” He crosses his arms grouchily. “Karkat, a car and a cat. _Hilarious_.”

 

“It’s a little funny, man.” You swat Dirks arm and he sets him down.

 

“It’s _old_ and I’m _tired_ of it.” He pivots on his heel and with a hmph. “He’s been saying it since he got here!”

 

You can see the red on the tips of his ears that say he doesn’t really mind it.

 

He doesn’t complain when you walk over and lean your weight on him, either. He supports you in leading you to the main room.

 

You give a nod to Kanaya, who just sighs at you and goes to sit on the edge of the grand table, shooing away bottles.

 

Karkat deposits you on the floor near the couch and goes to fetch his fallen computer. You wished he’d have dropped you on the couch. You don’t understand why he doesn’t just sit on the couch rather than the floor but you don’t bother him about it.

 

Dirk trots over looking unhappy and lifts you onto the couch, glaring at Karkat all the while.

 

You’d feel embarrassed over the attention if you didn’t want it so badly.

 

When Karkat turns around again, Dirk is standing in front of you with arms crossed, doing his best to look disapproving.

 

Roxy decides not to get between them, so she goes to Kanaya and introduces herself with Jane and Jake.

 

“Ah,” Kanaya says, “You’re Rose’s mother, are you not?”

 

Confused, Roxy tilts her head. “Uh?”

 

“Ectobiologically speaking, yes!” John says cheerfully, flopping onto the couch next to you.

 

Jake laughs from where he was looking at the massive tome on the table. “That’s quite a mouthful, chap!”

 

“Is she here? Can I see her?” Roxy asks eagerly. Kanaya blinks rapidly at her, opening her mouth before abruptly shutting it, looking awkward.

 

You and John share a flinch and look at various parts of the room. Jane is the only one to notice.

 

“...Certainly,” Kanaya says after a moment. She looks deeply unsettled.

 

She rises from her position and leads Roxy out, who is excitedly firing off one question after another.

 

“...alright, what’s going on?” Jane leans on the table in Kanaya’s place.

 

John coughs and looks at you meaningfully.

 

You raise your hands with a “Nope” and he glares at you sourly.

 

“She drinks giggle acid, it’s not a big deal.” Karkat rolls his eyes and waves a dismissive hand. Seeing as Dirk was blocking a proper place for him to sit, he grudgingly chooses the spot on the floor by the table.

 

“...so it’s a family trait, then?” Jane asks, one eyebrow raised.

 

John nods solemnly.

 

She sighs. “Hoo, boy.”

 

“Say,” Jake intervenes casually, “this is quite the funny tome! What’s all this googly words mean?”

 

“It’s a game guide,” You yawn. “Rose made it when the game was starting.”

 

“It’s quite fancy,” He flips through several pages, “well, if you get past the many penuses drawn on it.”

 

“What?” Jane yelps looking horrified.

 

Karkat glares at you. You sheepishly pretend not to notice.

 

“Who want’s dinner?” John asks hurriedly.

 

**Karkat: Be Angry== >**

 

An easy feat, given who you are.

 

Who is this trash who keeps trying to steal your job?

 

His stupid shades piss you off more than Dave’s had, when you had first met. Triangles? _Really_?

 

You suppose you have to put this horsemonger back in his place. You were Dave’s moirail, not him. You were the one to notice and take care of Dave at his lowest.

 

Suddenly you realize you _weren’t_ , though. Dave had been through an ordeal, you could tell by his light weight and the sharp bones you could feel through his skin. You hadn’t been there to take care of him. You hadn’t even been able to keep him from leaving.

 

This was all your fault, and you had to make it right again.

 

Dave’s brother, Dirk, was making it hard for you.

 

You have to find a way around him, because he was refusing to budge an inch.

 

You try to simmer down. Maybe he didn’t understand the situation! Humans were weird, they had friends that were like moirails; maybe he wasn’t trying to take your place at all.

 

You had to get him alone. You weren’t going to embarrass Dave by talking about his quadrant in public, especially around John.

 

John would _never_ let him live it down.

 


	8. In Rage

You’re not sure who this tiny troll is, but you kind of hate him.

 

He’s small and angry and wears an overlarge sweater. His candy corn horns are little nubs almost completely hidden in his messy hair.

 

He yelled at Dave.

 

He _threatened_ Dave.

 

His nails are long and sharp. You can imagine them leaving scars, long bloody gaps in flesh. His teeth are like a sharks.

 

He wants to talk to you. Privately.

 

“Okay look you fucking tree, I don’t care what the hell your problem is but you need to cut the pale plays the fuck out.”

 

He just called you a tree.

 

What the actual fuck.

 

He glares up at you in challenge.

 

“I’m not a tree and I’m not doing whatever the fuck it is you think I’m doing.” you snap at him.

 

He rolls his eyes at you. “Look, Dave is my moirail, not yours. Sorry to beat your one tiny quadrant to pieces but he’s mine. So you can take your little cheating self and give yourself a pat on the back for being the douchebag of the year.”

 

You take a moment to process this. “He’s my brother, not my...stupid alien romantic bullshit thing.”

 

You watch in interest as his eye spasms.

 

Karkat takes a long, hissing breath. “Okay, so you’re not playing replace the moirail. Good. Stop getting in the way, then.”

 

You narrow your eyes at him. “No, you’re not going anywhere near him.”

 

Within seconds his claws are in your shirt and you’re pulled down to his height.

 

“What, _the_ _everloving_ _fuck_ , did you just say to me?” He’s hissing at you, a strange whistling like an angry teakettle. You're mildly fascinated.

 

You lean down close to his face and say, slowly as if he were a child, "You're not going near him."

 

He snarls at you, low and animalistic. He’s inches away from your face, you can smell his rancid breath. "Why the _hell_ not?"

 

You grimace. You're really starting to hate this kid.

 

"You're dangerous." You say simply.

 

He stares at you, long and hard, as if completely baffled.

 

"Dangerous?" He chokes, sounding shocked. His mouth opens and closes, trying to form words that weren't there. He snaps his mouth shut, noticing this. His eyes form slits. "If you think I'm the dangerous one, then you're fucking insane."

 

"Maybe." You say casually. You weren't going to take any chances.

 

"I'm not dangerous." Karkat huffs. After a moment of consideration he lets go of your shirt. There are holes in it from his nails. "I'm probably the least dangerous one here! These shitbags are fucking _gods_ , if you haven't noticed."

 

"You are still stronger than him."

 

"What is this a fucking _pep_ _talk_? He could floor me in seconds without even moving a goddamn finger." He tries to sigh, looking like he's summoning patience from the bowels of his nonexistent heart. "What do you want me to do, huh? File my nails? Tear out my teeth?"

 

"Yes."

 

"I was being _sarcastic_ you stupid sack of feces I'm not going to do that."

 

You scowl at him. He makes a face in return that's hilariously ugly. You have trouble trying not to laugh while decking him in the face. He is so, very surreal.

 

In the other room there’s a loud yelp and an unfamiliar but cheery, “Sorry, Dave!”

 

You’re irritated to find that Karkat has beaten you to the door. He slumps a little, though.

 

“Hey, Harley,” She’s sitting on him. His voice is muffled by the many layers of skirt and hair. In a flash of green light she’s gone, only to reappear on the table, knocking over several little bottles and cups.

“Oops!” She has dog ears. They flick in your general direction. “I forgot they were there!” She levitates them upright with a sheepish grin, pointedly ignoring John’s “but you forget everything, so…”

 

“ _Grandma_!” Jake yells excitedly, launching himself at her in a bear hug. The bottles are sent to the floor again.

 

“Gang’s all here,” Dave wheezes from the couch, sounding pained. You rush over to him and fret over him until he pushes you away, looking red in the face.

 

Karkat glares at you from the doorway, looking sour. You make sure to give him a warning look before settling yourself between them protectively.

 

“Hi, Jade.” John waves at her lazily, sweeping up the bottles in a gust of air and sending them to the corner.  “Where’s Davesprite?”

 

She shrugs, gently prying off Jake, who looked overjoyed. “I think he went to visit Rose.”

 

“Who is Davesprite?” Jane asks curiously, shooing away a spare bottle that rolled to her feet.

 

John floats down to her to take it, musing aloud. “It’s kind of a long story. Basically its Dave and a crow and a sprite all smashed together.” He looks thoughtful for a moment. “He, uh, has issues.”

 

“You would too if you were him,” Dave says defensively, frowning deeply at him. John raises his hands in surrender and resumes his absent minded tidying up.

 

“Well, golly, Dirk!” Jake pipes up. “You hit the jackpot! That’s _two_ brothers for you.”

 

John sniggers, muttering golly under his breath.

 

“Two?” You repeat, startled.

  
  


“Oh my god there’s _two_ Davies!” Roxy lets out a shrill noise that makes your ears ring.

 

Davesprite shrinks back, looking startled. He had been talking to Rose previously, nudging her impatiently when she stopped listening.

 

“Kamaya, you’re back!” Rose seems to have forgotten about your fit earlier that day. Feeling guilty, you say hello with a wavering smile.

 

“Hi mom!” Roxy dives to sit next to her, nearly sitting on Davesprite in her haste. He starts to back away looking offended but she grips his arm and says hello to him, too.

 

He lets out a meek hello, taken aback. He hadn’t expected her to pay attention to him.

 

You sigh and move to sit on the other side of Rose, laying your hand on hers and fixing her hair for her.

 

“Hi, mum,” Rose laughs with a hiccup. She offers her drink to her mother, only to have it swiped and then unceremoniously dumped all over the floor.

 

“Time to get sober, mom!” she says cheerfully.

 

You’re not the only one taken aback. Rose just sort of stares at her, face slack.

 

“...yeah, good luck with that.” Davesprite phases his arm out of Roxy’s grip with a snort.

 

“Hey, now. You’re helping, too!” Roxy chides. She grabs his arm again, giving him a stern look. He falters under her glare.

 

“Where’s my wand?” Rose slurs, patting the tables searchingly as if blind.

 

“Whatever do you need it for?” You neglect to tell her that you took it from her a while back for using it to stir her drink.

 

“It’s key to the process!” She pats you, too, searching. “Kam-kannn... _Kanaya_!”

 

When she whines in frustration you relent, giving it to her. You regret it almost immediately when she points it to herself and says something in eldritch.

 

“Rose!” you screech shrilly, slapping it out of her hands as she starts to glow. When it fades she looks unharmed.

 

“Well,” she says briskly, slur gone. “I do believe I have _wasted_ enough time.”

 

She winks at Dave, who blanches.

 

“You could do that this _whole_ _time_?” He asks indignantly, feathers ruffled.

 

She shakes her head as she adjusted her dress and put her wand away. “In all honesty I just now figured it out.” She sounds a bit sheepish, glancing at you apologetically.

 

You’re in shock. Rose pats your cheek consolingly. She looks a bit dismayed at your lack of response. There’s a dent of worry between her eyes.

 

You grip her face and kiss it away. “ _Never_ drink such things again!”

 

You hate how your voice wobbles.

 

“I won’t,” she promises you, expression soft.

 

Davesprite mumbles “Awkward,” under his breath. He grunts when Roxy elbows him for ruining the moment.

 

“Hey, you’re soft!”

 

“Oh my god don’t touch me.”

 

“You need a hug.”

 

“What.”

 

“Oh come here.”

 

“No, stop that.”

 

“Bring it in, Dave! Hug time!”

 

“Get the hell away from me.”

 

“Come to mama!”

 

“You’re not my mom!”

 

“Technically,” Rose drawls, “she is.”

  
You sigh at all of them. You hope, for their sake, that they wouldn’t get themselves in trouble.


End file.
